


The Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh and Eighth Are To Help Others

by oroc



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Green Lantern - Fandom, Young Justice
Genre: AU, Consentacles, Fanart, Foot Fetish, M/M, Mind Control, Tentacles, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oroc/pseuds/oroc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim is surprised by how far Kon gets him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh and Eighth Are To Help Others

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU in some senses that you don't care about.
> 
> Tim is 20, and Kon is 4, and Proselyte is 11,000,000,000. All are mentally at least 20. 
> 
> The Lantern Corps act on the same basic basic principles: the Green Lanterns police their sectors according to an ever-changing law agreed on with the other colours, and the leadership of the other Corps decide activities day to day. The Indigo Tribe are not reformed or brainwashed criminals, but selected based on whomever is worthy. (There are no sex- or species-specific lanterns.)
> 
> The Entities, being primordial emotional gods, only really bother the Corps when there's a war. Otherwise, they stay with their hosts, and do their work. Some of this work is easier for some entities than others. Proselyte can manipulate other colours.
> 
> The Bat-family is together.

'Possession' is a very unkind term for what Proselyte tends to do to you.

As the entity of compassion, you'd expect it to cause one of two things: either an intense feeling of social obligation (and to speak alteration.org speak for the rest of your life) or an intense respect for personal boundaries to the point it doesn't or you don’t do anything ever again.

Even abstract concepts have to be pragmatic, though, and neither of these extremes really help. No, Proselyte does as any indigo ring does, and senses the emotion - or the brains (or other such emotion-generating structures) best suited to generating the emotion in the background, and then it has a short conversation and slides itself into you. 

Your soul.

In as much as your soul counts to a Lantern corps. Your feeling, some of the parts that feel. Your heart. Kon knows there's a mystical soul, where some demon or other's probably going to target him someday like they always have Clark and Kara, but that's even more abstract than Corroborative Compassion Coral.

While you are Proselyte, you are not controlled by the need to bring compassion or goodwill. It will have come to you because you already had that. While you've got the tendrils spreading out from you, you can sense with less visible ones, smell -- other emotions, other lights, and their conjunction. Proselyte is old, and the least - heh - colour-blind of the emotional entities. Lights in combinations mean particular things are happening.

An olive haze slowly becomes bright green and flashes neon yellow from a pawn shop window: Lucy's father has been dead for twenty-four years, but she had recorded all the calls where he said he'd kill her if Mama didn't take him back. Lucy keeps running her shop. A tattooed boy talks to her every Wednesday, and she likes that, and considers getting help for her problem, as the olive haze grows greener.

A hostile takeover covers Gotham Central Bank in a blue-orange pallor. Investor confidence blooms like hay-coloured fungus out of it the next minute or two. 

People in his town are more paranoid than even Kon thought.

None quite as much as Tim.

Tim didn't, at first, appreciate the transformation. So many different factors to consider - like any new person. Bruce just had to keep telling him it was fine: it was visiting, it was considered, and it was helpful. (The polyp trilled.) (Bruce ordered Tim to take extensive notes on this.)

"Are we hanging out because Bruce told you to?"

"I'm not at liberty to say." Tim is meditating. Kon switches off the vision of his emotions -- it's sort of hard to process.

"I can let Proselyte go for a bit, man..."

"No, it's fine. Read all my mind. All the time."

"I'm still me." Kon sits, in the same position, in front of Tim, whose eyes stay closed.

"You're someone else too. You couldn't fold like this before."

"I still... Please, Tim, I can't take you cutting me out like this."

"Cutting you *both* out, you m-" Tim's mouth is shut because Kon has put his feet in Tim's lap, so now he can do that. 

"I'm. Still. Me. And I *know* you know I have massive issues with abandonment because I've read your stupid *file* on me."

"Bruce's decisions are-"

"Bruce wants someone he can call in to wipe the yellow from the city when Crane lets his gas out. Who can negate artificial violet when Ivy lets *her* gas out." If only Kon hadn't forwarded that video that time, Tim wouldn't be smiling - "Bruce wants to manipulate me with you. Here I am," he flexes a sole, which doesn't touch Tim's cock, because that's now sandwiched between two well-formed ankles. "Ready for you to manipulate me."

"Kon... I can't..." There's a long pause. Kon's face falls, he starts to shift - "No, I like *that*," Tim sighs, so Kon keeps his feet where they are. "Did you read *my* file?"

"No," Kon says, now resting both soles down onto Tim's crotch, holding him down straight. The stretch is kind of nice. "You'll tell me what you want me to know. You lie to *Batman*, Boy Wonder..." He grips Tim's head. "You won't trust me if you can't lie to me."

"So you're giving me a foot job because your alien squid thing read the emotional spectrum of my *dick*."

"I'm giving you a foot job because I need you to *tell* me but I want to *find out*," and it's a good thing Tim doesn't see Kon's indigo-glowing leer, because Kon really, really does like the sight of Tim smiling. "And my friend - your friend, too, eventually --"

Tim's dick twitches.

"Really?"

"Bruce -- Bruce has had to deprogram me a few times, and he's got a really nice -- v-voice."

Kon wraps his feet around Tim, as Tim's penis is now the litmus test while he doesn't let himself see emotional emanation.

"And neck... And ass. And feet, I bet." Another, smaller twitch. "Okay, so are you freaking out because Proselyte can manipulate you, you *get off on that*, and you're really hoping it's just me in control if it happens?" The pulses practically have Tim's dick nodding into their prison. "This must happen so often for you, little Robin... Gettin' kidnapped... Getting controlled..."

"Kon, I'm - I'm afraid of it, I - Joker tried to -"

"Look at me, Tim." Tim does. He doesn't expect the indigo or the marks, but he sees them, and he's sweating, and he's -

Calming down, because Kon is smiling. Real smiles brought Tim back. Joker ones are easy to spot - harder to believe in.

"I'm gonna make you so happy and free and you're gonna need so much aftercare Dick is gonna rim you awake tomorrow morning." Proselyte has slithered some arms out - chest and back, shoulders, as usual - and wrapped around Tim's legs, holding them in the lotus. "I think I'm just -- I think I'm just gonna ask for informed consent here and now and fucking gag you for the rest of the night." Coils of indigo are spiralling around Tim like Ivy's pea plants --

\--Then swelling --

"I think, once you've given me your informed consent, I'm going to start looking at your emotions, and I'm gonna start pulling all that irrational fear out of you and fucking pumping you with what *I* think you are. With everything I feel about you. You want that, right?" 

Tim, fight it.

Tim finds, again, that he can't open his mouth.

"Want me reachin' up inside you and pulling... Or pushing..." Kon's going to crush his cock if he keeps squeezing like this. So much pre on them already, they - Kon lifts them up to Tim's face, and pushes it down onto the mattress. "Lick me, Rob."

Tim obeys, since he now can.

"A-ahh - yeah, slower... G'boy. Let's get it over with. Show you what it's like. You want it - you know me. This can be how you test Proselyte, huh? Self-sacrificing li'l bird."

Tim stops fighting it and moans, and Kon's so *clean* -

"Give me your informed consent, Tim." Smug fucking face -

"I understand," Tim pants, "and I consent." His mouth is closed. His mouth is open. He's breathing through his nose. He looks up at Kon, defiant, the markings sucking all the ambient light into them and just eclipsing around Kon's body with this purple-blue halo. 

The tip of a purple tentacle slips around the tip of Tim's tongue like a collar, and pulls it out. Kon floats above Tim, face to face, and lets go; lets Tim straighten out and get comfortable. Can Kon tell he's still scared? That thick, solid feeling - never wet enough - slides around Tim's belly. His pyjama top wasn't needed for all the warmth, but he - is very sensitive there. He can't not make noise. 

The collar around his tongue thickens, then rounds off, letting go; it slips inside Tim's throat, silencing him completely. He moans to test what noise he can make, then feels a small jolt of energy - 

His larynx is paralysed. The tentacle slips out.

"Scream."

"Hhh-"

"G'boy."

It goes back inside. "Now, you're gonna see some nice colours in a second... Nice, swirling colours..." His voice is doubled over with someone else's. Proselyte now, puppeteering - "Don't worry; you generate them all the time. It's like sweat. I'll wash some off, you can always make more. Now, let's see..." It slips into his throat again and Tim allows it, honestly curious to get the soul-fucking started given it's taken this long to - a green trickle slides up the tentacle out of his throat.

He needs Kon inside him.

He needs Mad Hatter fucking him up and Kon fucking him up so, so much more - but -

Olive trickle.

Tim struggles. 

"Stop struggling," says Dick, at the other end of the room. Dick is also meditating.

Tim struggles -- 

"Little brother. Stop struggling. Let it - we all agreed this was best for you." The olive stream is evaporating out into Proselyte's arm, and the rest of his limbs are bound, arms behind his back, ankles together - moving behind his back. "Relax..."

Tim tries to groan and gulps.

"There you go."

"Thanks. Now, Timmy." Tim keens - or he makes the noise that would have been keening - and snuggles into the hold. Proselyte's arms have his cock and balls secure - and the tip of one, now clubbed, is circling over his ass cheeks. "I've sampled some of this to copy from Dick here, and me, and Bruce." The stream - it does look exactly like water - is bright yellow now. Unfortunate. But Tim doesn't mind as much as earlier. He's not in control. No need to - no need to try to be. "You're going to take it all in, like a good boy, and I'm gonna let your voice box start working once you're *totally* gone. Get it?" Tim nods, not that it makes much difference since he consented to mind control.

Kon places Tim so he's sitting on Kon's face, and takes his time licking his best friend open. The period where Kon opens Tim up is always pretty - traumatic, and needs repeating. This time it needn't.

Once he's relaxed - and cheekily biting down on Proselyte, still in his throat - Kon slicks him up with a liquid force field, and Proselyte inserts the arm inside his ass.

Tim tries to scream. He, of course, can't. He can see Kon's shoulder: two slow tap water trickles of cerulean and pink slide in a helix from the tentacle's source, and Tim waits half a minute before it reaches inside him -

He's crying.

He sees - 

Futures.

He sees himself, open and unyielding, Bruce in control of him and Dick setting him loose on the town at the same time, Kon his best friend his brother his lover his need - Oh, *Kon*. 

Kon moans, himself, probably because he can see how Tim is processing it, or because he's gripping his cock (is Dick moving?).

He comes to - almost - when he hears himself screaming. He can't see the room, because - as he will later discover in Dick's video of the incident - his eyes are actually leaking the blue and violet spectrum energy he sees instead. He has come to orgasm about four times by that point. 

Tim has friends who love him.

Tim has brothers and sisters who love him.

Tim is *screaming* his love back, then his mouth is closed around the same tentacle again, which fucks more blue and violet inside him.

Proselyte can stay. Tim loves and needs him too, now. When Kon and Tim marry - on Rosetta and 4th, not far from Jack Drake's apartment, where this first happened - the secular service politely says nothing about how much the joys of marriage bring *two* people together.

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned Proselyte-Kon, by http://micahdraws.tumblr.com/


End file.
